


You Idiot, Freddie Lyon. You Reckless, Reckless boy.

by My_Beautiful_Idiot



Category: The Hour
Genre: Death References, F/M, Gen, References to Suicide, Spoilers, The Hour - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-22 04:40:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Beautiful_Idiot/pseuds/My_Beautiful_Idiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She clicked her heel harder on the third step as she ran. The words from the letter she never sent still rattling around her head like they were haunting her, taunting her.</p><p>Set directly after 2x06.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reactions and Consequences.

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 2X06
> 
> I rather like this piece. It'll be the first in many chapters. How many? I don't know yet. I just want to show this to you before I write any more. 
> 
> Any criticisms are welcome. If you feel I've let anyone out of character; Let me know!

She clicked her heel harder on the third step as she ran. The words from the letter she never sent still rattling around her head like they were haunting her, taunting her.  
  
She got to the third set of stairs and gave up on her shoes. Still somehow moving she kicked them off her feet. She could feel the cold winter air nip through the doors as they rattled, closing and opening from the stream of people running around like headless chickens. She abandoned her shoes. She didn’t need them. They weren’t a necessity.  
  
Not like Freddie was.  
  
He lay on the grass, paralyzed by the pain which he could only feel. Trying so hard to get out the one word that meant oh so much to him. Meant everything to him.  
  
 _“Moneypenny.”_  
  
The sound around him was dulled. Like his head was being held underwater; like his ears were filled with something that just made the sound stop. Blood. It was probably blood.  
  
She stumbled out of the door and saw him. The world seemed to stop spinning as the sight of blood filled her eyes. Red, so so red.  
  
“Oh, God...” _Stupid, reckless, childish boy,_ she thought, as she ran.  
  
She ran faster and harder than she had in her whole life, but it didn’t feel like she was moving properly at all.  
  
Somehow he could sense she was there. With the miniscule amount of energy, of effort, he had left, he turned his head to see her. Through the blurs he could still she how beautiful she was. Her radiance shone out in the darkness of times. God, how he wanted to kiss her. Stand up and tell her everything was going to be alright, that he’ll be with her always. Bel and Freddie, together forever.  
  
She was on her knees before she knew it, pleading, begging him not to die. Blood covering her hands. His blood. Her hands shook as she took his. So cold. His open eye fixed on her, and his bruised mouth twitched as if he was trying to smile.  
  
“There she is,” he rasped, final breaths leaving his body. He’d use them talking to her, she was worth it. She was always worth it.  
  
“My Moneypenny.”    
  
She stroked back his hair, tears bitterly stinging her eyes. He breathed out the word again, and again; _Moneypenny_. She shushed him quietly, smiling through her tears like it would make him more brave, even though it was herself whom she wished were braver.  
  
 _I’m the coward, Freddie. Not you._  
  
“Don’t speak, James, I’ve got you. You’re going to be fine.” Empty words and empty promises, she thought. She looked up at the people standing there, loitering. A crowd had formed around them now, and no one seemed to be doing anything. Why was no one doing anything?  
  
“Don’t just stand there, do something!” She yelled at them, trying to hide the desperation in her voice. “Is there an ambulance on its way?” A secretary, roughly Sissy’s age, stepped forward and informed her that one would be there momentarily.  
  
“Good, thank you. Okay. Thank you. Christ...” She babbled. She wanted to stand, but she didn’t want to leave Freddie. She wanted to run, walk, pace, hide, scream, shout, cry all at once. The sound of the ambulance finally arriving pierced through the air. Freddie gasped for air; it just would not fill his lungs fast enough. There wasn’t enough of it. He coughed heavily, causing a watery-blood trail to dribble out of his mouth. Bel focused all attention back on him, and for a moment she felt as if they were the only two in the world.  
  
A tear fell down her cheek. The single eye of Frederick Lyon flitted to it, and his fingers twitched, like he was going to reach out.  
  
“Don’t cry for me, Moneypenny.” The words came out hoarse and slurred slightly. The eye wandered slightly on the surroundings as the paramedics arrived and started taking him away. Bel wouldn’t let go.  
  
“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to stand back-”  
  
“No. I’m going with you,” she stated, firm. Her voice didn’t waver, and her once desperate face had turned to one of hard expression.  
  
“Miss, I’m afraid-” the paramedic started, but she stepped forward and cut him off.  
  
“Listen. I am his producer. He is my best journalist. I have to go with him, is that understood?” The man faltered for a moment, a little taken aback, then mumbled something along the lines of “of course, miss” before going back to helping his co-workers move Freddie onto the stretcher and into the van.  
  
The next few hours passed like a blur. She was getting into the van next to Freddie with no shoes on and they were shutting the door, but then she looked up and she was in the waiting room of the hospital awaiting news on Freddie’s condition as she found herself beginning to sob. The blood on her skin had hardened, and as she brought her hands to her face to conceal the sob, the smell of iron filled her nose and made her gag, violently.

She stood, coughing heftily. Her hand gripped at the wall as she dragged in heaps of air. A soft hand was placed on her shoulder. She didn’t jump. Instead she turned, slowly, to see Lix holding her heels and a lit cigarette in hand, and a sad smile only just on her face.  
  
“Come here,” Lix beckoned, and Bel fell into her open arms, trying to stop the tears from running down her face.  
  
“He’s hurt, Lix,” Bel began. “If he dies-”  
  
“My dear, who says he’ll die?” They pulled away from the hug together. “He’s Freddie, darling. He’s too darn stubborn to die. Plus,” she paused to take a drag from her cigarette. “He loves you too much to leave you here alone.” Bel smiled, a fake, forced smile that she desperately wish were real. Lix tutted and wiped away a stray tear which fell onto Bel’s already tear-stained cheek.  
  
“Don’t cry, dear. You’re too young to cry over a boy,” she mocked, and the fake smiles were exchanged again.  
  
“Do the others know?” Bel questioned, trying to pry herself away from niggling emotions that just would not leave her alone. She took the shoes from Lix and put them on. They pinched her toes; she didn’t care.  
  
“Hector’s bringing his car, and Marnie’s with him.”  
  
“What about Clienti, any news on him?”  
  
“He, and Mr. Pike, have been arrested for assault.” Bel scoffed a little.  
  
“At least Stern did one thing right.” Lix shuffled slightly. Bel furrowed her brow. “What?”  
  
“Stern’s body was discovered just before I left the office. He’s dead, Bel. Suicide.” Bel opened her mouth to react, when Hector and Marnie bustled in. Marnie clinging to Hector’s arm like it was her only support.  
  
“How is he? Any news?” The worry in Hector’s voice was undeniable, and Bel almost smiled, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not until...  
  
“I- I don’t know. They took him into surgery immediately after we arrived. That was over an hour ago.” Fear prickled through her again. The same feeling she felt when she first saw him there, on the grass, with all that blood. What if he doesn’t make it? What then? “They haven’t told me anything since.” Hector extended a hand, and Bel clasped it in her own. They stared at one another, silently communicating;  
  
 _I’m scared, Hector._  
  
 _I know you are, Bel. I am too._ **  
**


	2. Cracks in the Fabric of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie's been taken into surgery, and with the company of Marnie, Hector, and Lix, Bel waits for news on her beloved.  
> But waiting was an endless game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos on my first chapter! It's really nice to see people liked it!
> 
> Here's chapter two. Took me a while to establish a flow, but I got there. 
> 
> This is self-betad, so again; Any mistakes of spelling, grammar, punctuation, or you just feel the characters don't fit quite right, do let me know!
> 
> Enjoy, my friends.

Waiting was an endless game. Bel paced up and down the corridor twenty times (Hector counted); Lix managed to smoke her way through almost half a pack of cigarettes (“When I’m worried, I smoke or I drink. And seeings as there is no whiskey around...” She shrugged, and proceeded to light her 7th over the past 3 hours); Marnie went to the bathroom to re-apply her make-up three times (Bel suspected it was just something to do. The air was filled with tortuous tension that cut to the bone if one stayed still for too long); and Hector left to find some form of drink several times, always returning empty handed.  
  
 _Drink your coffee._  
  
 _It’s not single malt._  
  
“How is it possible?” Bel span around quickly to stare at Hector, who was the first to break the two hour silence.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Mr. Lyon,” he stated, shuffling so as to sit forward more. “How is it possible he’s managed to work his way into our lives so deeply?”  
  
Bel walked over to the seat opposite Hector. Marnie was on one of her trips to the bathroom, and Bel eyed the empty seat next to him as she sat. She then inhaled, heavily, calming herself before replying.  
  
‘“Freddie is... Infectious,” she starts, and Lix leans forward, taking a puff of her now 9th cigarette. “He crawls under your skin and you can’t shake him, and even if you tried, he’d probably just say no.” They all let out a small laugh. It feels odd smiling in such a tense time.   
  
“However," Bel continued. "He’s infuriating, reckless, stupid-” She clenched her fists, trying to calm the anger now prickling through her. God- why did he have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t he just leave it alone? For once try to keep himself safe instead of shoving himself in harms way? Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice called to her, saying;  
  
 _Because he’s Freddie. And that’s just what Freddie does._  
  
“Even so,” she began again, calmed a little. “Who would _want_ to shake Freddie away?” She looked up at Hector, who was watching her intently. “He’s passionate, and kind. He’s the glue that will hold you together when you feel like falling apart. He pushes you to be better by taunting and teasing. Manipulating you into seeing what he sees, because _that_ is the best possible angle you could be looking at, in any situation.” A smile spread across Hector’s face as he listened to her. He clasped placed on of his hands on hers. Bel looked at him, and raised an eyebrow to the smile on his face.  
  
“What?”  
  
Hector and Lix exchanged a knowing look, causing Lix to chuckle a little.  
  
“What is it?” Bel insisted, looking frantically between the two of them. Lix leaned back in her seat, waving to Hector as if to say; _You tell her._  
  
“There’s something in your eyes when you talk about him,” he started, leaning back into his chair again. “A light that switches on when you see him. Your face just... Brightens. Like someone’s shone a spotlight on you. I saw it when we had dinner, with Douglas and Clarence, right before The Hour had even started airing. I still see it now, shining as bright as it did the first time, if not brighter.”  
  
“It’s in his eyes, too.” Hector and Bel simultaneously looked to Lix, who was putting out her cigarette in the ashtray beside her. “It’s always been there.” Hector nodded, turning to look at Bel again. Her eyes were puffed up and red. Somehow hearing it from other people made it all the more real. All the more painful that maybe he won’t survive this.  
  
“It was never me, or Bill, or that banker you were seeing when we first met, was it? Heck, even Marnie saw it before I did.”  
  
“Well, of course I did Hector,” Marnie walked in, somehow owning the room as soon as she did. She slipped, effortlessly in between the two of them, Hector and Bel, and sat down, placing a hand on Hector’s arm. “You were too busy drooling all over Miss Rowley here.”  
  
An awkward buzz seemed to drift through the air as Bel shuffled in her seat, moving her hand to fiddle with her hair. Marnie laughed.  
  
“Oh come now, all is forgiven here,” she said, smiling. She’s always smiling. How does she do that? She must have learnt how from pretending she didn't know about all the women Hector was with. Hector reshuffled.  
  
“The point is,” Lix said, cutting through the silence. “We always knew where your heart truly lay. And I think you did too.”  
  
Silence struck the room again. Bel couldn’t stand it. She could only think about Freddie. Freddie in her thoughts; in the memories she treasured so deeply...

Thinking it was as good a time as any, she excused herself and escaped to the bathroom.  
  
She turned on the taps and watched as the blood on her hands, _his_ blood, washed off and turned the water that deep red she’d come to know all too well. The smell of iron drifted into her nose again forcing her to think about the full gravity of the situation. Freddie, _her_ Freddie (for he was hers), was on the brink of life. Her Freddie had risked his life for the story, _again_ , and this time had come out worse for wear.  
  
 _You know some nice girl needs to rescue you._  
  
 _Who? It’s only ever been you._  
  
She smiled at this thought, this memory, and realised Lix was right, as she always is. It had only been him for her, too.  
  
“Bel?”  
  
She let out a little yelp in surprise as she turned to the bathroom door to see Hector there, poking his head through the door.  
  
“I-I’m sorry-”  
  
“No, it’s fine. You, um... You just startled me is all.” She gave him a small smile to show she was okay, although she could tell Hector didn’t believe it.  
  
“The Doctor’s just...” He started, trailing off. Bel didn’t need to hear any more. She opened her mouth as if to reply, but was out of the room before she said anything.  
  
She ran back to the waiting room, Hector in tow. The doctor turned to them as they approached, and Bel realised it was Sey.  
  
“S-Sey- I mean... Doctor Ola.” She shook her head, correcting herself. There was no time for pleasantries. “How is he?”  
  
“He is out of surgery, and fairly stable. However...” he replied, his face grim.  
  
“What is it?” Bel wrung her hands, not sure whether she wanted to hear the next part.  
  
“Obviously he’s not awake, currently. But because of his injuries, I’m afraid there’s a possibility he will not wake up at all.”  
  
All at once the room seemed to be suffocating her. The walls moving in to squeeze the air out of her until she was just skin and bones on the floor. The voices of Hector and Lix and Marnie only just reaching her. She struggled to keep herself on her feet. Stumbling back, she suddenly remembered Camille. His _wife._ Was she still his wife? He said they were over.  
  
 _It’s just over with me and Camille._  
  
“Has anyone tried to-” she paused, catching her breath. “Tried to contact Camille? She is his wife after all...” She tottered forward, trying to keep herself vertical.  
  
“I’ll get Sissy to do it later. Bel,” Hector walked over to her and held out a hand to steady her on. “Perhaps you should sit down...”  
  
“No, I’m fine. I just need some air- I’ll be back...”  
  
Before anyone could object, she was gone. She walked, briskly, away from the hospital as her whole world seemed to crumble around her.  
  
 _You just. Run through life, scraping past injury. Nothing touches you. You pretend it does, but it doesn’t. Not really._  
  
It did this time. And he wasn’t the only one to get hurt. It felt as if his pain had bleed its way into the fabric of the world, and right now everyone could feel it, because _that’s_ who Freddie was.  
  
Freddie was everything.  
  
And the world just wouldn’t be the same without him.  
  
 _He has to live. Just_ live, _Freddie. Do it for everyone who needs you._  
  
 _But most of all do it for me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick side note; I'm not sure where Sey was in his career at this point, so just go with me there, kay?
> 
> Oh, and there will be a chapter three!


	3. Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie loved stars. And Bel didn't realise how well places could hold memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, you're all so wonderful!  
> Thank you /so much/ for all the positive feedback! Really does mean the world that people are enjoying this.
> 
> I just had to write and get this to you as quickly as possible. I came up with the idea one night as I was falling asleep, and quickly jotted it down before sleeping (thank god got iPod notes!)
> 
> I hope you enjoy. As before, it is self-betad. So any mistakes in anything, do let me know!

Freddie loved stars.   
  
When they were younger, Freddie used to pull Bel outside into the cold on a clear, dark winter's night and lay out his jacket for her to lie on. He’d lie down next to her and they’d look up at the stars together. He didn’t know the names of any of them. Not really. He’d point up at them and make up names and stories, causing Bel to laugh hysterically.   
  
“You’re a fabulous spy, James, but I don’t think astronomy is one of your many talents,” she teased once, through her fits of giggles. They were laying on a patch of grass, just outside where they used to work. The cold air nipping at their skin.  
  
“Oh,” he replied, propping himself up into his elbows to get a better look at her. “And what makes you say that, Moneypenny?”  
  
“Because you pointed at the moon and called it a star.” Freddie looked at her, fake outrage on his face.  
  
“But it is a star, Moneypenny. It’s the brightest star in the sky! It’s- It’s the king of the stars.” He nodded, looking serious for a second, before catching her eye and falling onto his back again in fits of laughter. She turned inwards to lie facing him, and he did the same. One of the many times, Bel realised, their lips were inches away from one another, begging their owner to let them meet.  
  
“And what does that make the Sun, James?” She whispered to him, feeling as if the stars were watching him intently.  
  
“Why, it is the daytime star, of course,” his words slurred a little from the alcohol they’d been drinking.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Bel shivered suddenly, not realising how cold she was. Freddie had told her to wait there, that he’d be back in a moment. Then he ran off into the office before she could protest. He returned, moments later, with a few old blankets.   
  
They fell asleep there that night. George wasn’t particularly pleased, but as soon as he finished telling them off, they just started laughing again. She loved hearing him laugh.  
  
She walked there first. She stared at the spot where the blankets once lay, and pictured in her minds eye what they must have looked like. She could see them lying close; Freddie on the outside, resting his face close to her neck and holding her as close as possible for warmth; her on the inside, gripping his hand which lay on her arm. A moment of pure bliss. Yes, that was what it was.  
  
About a year after that night, after they moved to Live Grove and started _The Hour,_ after Freddie got himself buried in the Elms story, Bel was leaving to go home for the night, when she saw Freddie lying on the grass outside, looking up at the stars like they used to. She walked over to him, but his eyes didn’t move away from the stars.  
  
“What are you doing out here? It’s late.” She pulled her coat more tightly about her, and lay down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder.  
  
“Thinking.”  
  
“About what?”  
  
“Ruth.” She smirked.  
  
“Of course you are.”  
  
“It wasn’t suicide, Bel.” She sat up and looked at him, a kindness in her eyes. Oh how she worried for him.  
  
“You should go home. Get some sleep.” She tugged on his jacket a little as she stood up. He sat up, wearily, but then grabbed her hand and pulled her back onto the ground again. Giggling, the two huddled together, Freddie pulling Bel closer to his chest. They stared up at the sky like they did on those nights so long ago.   
  
“Look,” Bel pointed up at the sky directly above them. “Shooting star.” She moved her head so she could see Freddie’s face. “Make a wish.”  
  
“I wish,” he began, deep thought on his face. “To find all the answers I am looking for. And for more nights as perfect as this.” Bel smiled, and nestled her head into his chest once more.  
  
“The king of stars looks beautiful tonight, doesn’t it James?”  
  
“Not quite as beautiful as you though, Moneypenny. Close!” He exclaimed, holding up a finger. Bel giggled. “But not quite,” he finished, putting his hand back down on the grass again.   
  
She took him home after that, but she always doubted he actually slept.   
  
That’s where she went next; back to Lime Grove. She felt as if she was torturing herself as she drew nearer. All the people who were crowding him earlier were gone. She could see lights still on in the windows of the studios. She walked onto the grass where they lay, so painfully close to where they found him. Barely keeping it together, she crouched down to feel how wet the ground was, before lying in the spot, _their_ spot, and looking up at the stars.   
  
Knowing that his blood was being dragged into the mud somewhere nearby made her feel uncomfortable, almost sick. She tried to focus on the stars, on the happy memories. She glanced the moon, their king star, shining brightly in the sky. It was full, and brighter than she’d seen it in a long time. Places somehow have a way of pulling in memories, and staring up there, she felt like they were back there again, the two of them; Freddie and Bel.   
  
She hadn’t realised quite how entwined their hearts were, not until she realised how painful it was to have as the other half ripped away.   
  
A shooting star spread across the sky, and Bel wished. God, how she wished. Her eyes squeezed shut and focused on that one thought;  
  
 _I wish for Freddie. I wish for him to be okay. I wish for him to live._  
  
Meanwhile, in the hospital a few miles away, Freddie Lyon was dreaming. Dreaming of flying past stars and stardust; of sitting on the moon and soaring around the sun; he dreamed of entwining his fingers with the love of his life, and floating through the universe, whispering one word;  
  
 _Moneypenny._  
  
That was when the finger twitched.

 


	4. Dreams of Alternative Realities.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her gut told her it was time to return, and so she ran. And when she arrived, she fell, and dreamt of a better place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is! Chapter 4!
> 
> I'm really, truly thrilled that people like this so much. I don't think I've ever written so much in my life! Not by myself, anyway!
> 
> Remember: Self-betad; Do tell me if there's any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors and such!
> 
> And enjoy!

Lix saw it first. The twitch. Her, Hector and Marnie had all gone into his room after Bel left for her walk.  
  
(“I should go after her-” he had said, moving to the door.  
  
“No, darling,” Lix said, pulling him back. “Leave her. She needs time to process.”)  
  
Lix walked in first, and despite her best efforts to hide it, she obviously wasn’t quite ready for that sight quite yet. None of them were. There was Freddie- Freddie who was always there, always watching, always thinking, always working- lying in a hospital bed. They had cleaned off the blood, as much as they could, but his eye was still swollen shut, his skin was black and blue. He somehow looked so _small_ , oddly child-like. But most of all, most painful of all, he looked helpless.  
  
Lix stepped forward slowly, determined not to show weakness in front of Hector. _No tears_ she told herself. That didn’t stop her whispering quietly to him as she took his hand, and planted a small kiss on his forehead;  
  
“Oh, my beautiful boy...”  
  
Soon, they were all in chairs, watching him as if he were a kettle about to boil. Marnie fell asleep on Hector’s shoulder. Lix smiled at the two of them. It was nice to see some light in a dark time.  
  
“She’s glowing,” she stated at one point, gesturing to Marnie.  
  
“Yes,” Hector replied, smiling softly down at his snoozing wife. “I guess you could say she is.”  
  
“How many weeks?” Hector started a little. Then laughed. Of course she’d know. How could she not? Alexis Storm; sees all.  
  
“Three.” He moved a little stray hair from her face. Lix nodded, her fingers fidgeting for a cigarette. “She’s going to be a wonderful mother.”  
  
“And you a wonderful father.” Hector shrugged, obviously unsure. “Don’t doubt yourself, sweetheart. You’ve grown over the past few weeks. I’ve seen it. You just need to prove it to yourself, darling.” He chuckled, quietly. She’s right. She’s always right.  
  
Lix turned back to Freddie then, and the quiet that was there before returned like a tidal wave. That was when she saw it. The tiny twitch in a singular finger of Freddie Lyon. That’s all it took to get hope back into the hearts of those who held him dear.  
  
They weren’t quite sure what to do. Lix and Hector exchanged looks of _Did you see that? Am I imagining things?_ Lix stared at his hand again until- Yes, a definitive twitch. However, the first words to pass anyone’s lips were not “Where’s Doctor Ola?” but “Where is Bel?”  
  
Bel had sat up quickly after wishing on that star. She couldn’t tell what it was, but something felt... Different. She might have been imagining things, but it was as if something in the air had shifted. A feeling grew in her gut that told her to _go back now. It’s time._ Freddie told her once that she should always listen to her gut.  
  
“You’ve got good instincts, Moneypenny,” he’d said. “You should listen to them more often.”  
  
She got up then, she slipped off those bloody shoes, and she ran. She wasn’t particularly sure why she needed to run, but she knew he needed her, and that was all that mattered.  
  
Bel arrived at the hospital 10 minutes later. She didn’t stop running once she started, falling into a regular pace of _one two one two_. Soon after she’d started her feet began to hurt, but she didn’t care. Something spurred her on, and she didn’t have time to ask herself what. Hector was just walking out of Freddie’s room when they bumped into one another.  
  
“Bel! I was just- God, are you alright?” She stumbled and held onto him for support, completely breathless. Heart pounding fast, she began to pull in bucket fulls of air. It wasn’t enough.  
  
“Freddie. F-Fred-die...” She panted, just before her legs gave in, and the world turned dark around her.  
  
She saw him in her dream. They were in a huge ballroom. A giant chandelier above their heads illuminating the glass floor. The room appeared to be floating. Beneath the glass floor there was... Nothing. Just white. An endless white. She looked down at herself: She wore a full-length, deep blue dress, with straps. It had a low back, and fell perfectly to her toes. She looked up, and there, right in the middle of the room, was Freddie, wearing a lovely, fitted tuxedo, and extending a hand to her.  
  
“May I have this dance, Moneypenny?” He said, as she drew closer.  
  
“You most certainly may, James.” And she fell into his arms. An orchestra appeared to the side of them (or had it always been there?), and the two began to sway.  
  
They danced for what felt like ages, but it also felt like no time at all.  
  
“I must say, you look particularly dapper tonight James.”  
  
“And you, Moneypenny. You look extraordinary. Then again, you always look beautiful.” Bel blushed.  
  
“You’re too kind to me.”  
  
“Isn’t that what one does when they’re in love?”  
  
“And you love me?”  
  
They stopped dancing then, but the music continued playing. He took a small step back from her, still holding one of her hands, and said;  
  
“Moneypenny, I have loved you since the day we met.” Bel smiled, taking a step back toward him.  
  
“I love you too, James. I always have.”  
  
That world around them didn’t exist anymore. It was just the two of them, standing in perfect bliss; lips so close to touching. Bel put her arms around Freddie, holding him close.  
  
“Kiss me, please,” she whispered, oh so quietly.  
  
“As you wish.”    
  
They closed their eyes, and their begging lips finally met, in a sweet and tender kiss. The lost feeling Bel had felt for so long without him had gone, and she finally felt as if she was home.  
  
When she opened her eyes, however, she was sitting in a hospital chair. Dim, flickering lights were illuminating the room instead of the chandelier. The room was smaller, there was no orchestra, and instead of Freddie in front of her, there was Hector, watching her worriedly as she sat up in the chair.  
  
“What happened?” She said, voice hoarse and dry. Hector handed her a glass of water, which she took, gladly.  
  
“You ran into me on my way to find you,” he replied. “Then you started mumbling something, before you collapsed right in front of me.” Bel rubbed her head, struggling to remember.  
  
“I-I was at Lime Grove,” she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to think. “Then I got this feeling... I felt-” She let out a small laugh. “It sounds ridiculous. But I felt...” She balled up her fist, struggling to get the words out. “Like Freddie needed me then. Right then. So I... I ran.”  
  
“You ran all the way here?” She nodded. He fell backward into his seat, slightly amazed. “Well, the doctor said you’ll be fine. Just lots of water and rest.”  
  
“How is he?” She blurted out, suddenly. Hector smiled a little.  
  
“Improving. Doctor Ola is amazed. Lix saw his finger twitch and we weren’t quite sure how to react. I was going to get my car to find you when you fell in.” She smirked, nestling into her chair a little more. “Doctor says if he keeps improving like this, he may wake up in a week or two.”  
  
“A week?”  
  
“It’s better than him not waking up at all, Bel.” He leant down, grasping her hand. “Now, there’s hope.” She smiled. Bits and pieces of the dream she had started to return to her.  
  
“Can I see him?”  
  
Hector walked her to his room, and the sight shocked her like it did Lix a few hours ago. Light had begun to creep in through the windows. Hector drew up a chair for her to sit on by his bedside, then told her he had to get home to Marnie, whom he’d dropped off while she was out. (“Of course, of course,” she'd said, not really paying attention.)  
  
Soon they were alone. Bel held his hand and watched over him. It comforted her that it was warmer than it was when they’d first found him. She took it as a good sign.  
  
“Apparently you’re meant to be able to hear me.” She laughed at herself. “You know more than anyone I’m not great at this sort of thing.” She shuffled closer to him, his banged up face somehow not masking his beauty. He had a presence, Freddie did.  
  
“I had a dream recently,” she said to him. “We were in a ballroom. You were in a fancy tuxedo, and I was in a pretty dress. You asked me to dance, I said yes.” She smiled at the image of them dancing she held in her head.  
  
“Then you told me that you loved me.” Tears pricked her eyes. “I said I loved you too. And then you kissed me, and I kissed you back.” She sniffed, loudly, trying to stop herself from crying.  
  
“God! I need you to wake up soon. I need you to be able to actually hear me say it because I do. I love you Freddie. I love every part of you, even the bits that drive me insane.” She picked up his hand and kissed it softly, the words from her letter floating around her head again.  
  
 _Just come home, and I will leap too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yes, there will be a chapter five)


	5. Re-awakenings.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She visited him every day for the next week. At first, the doctors would send her home at the end of visiting hours, saying:
> 
> “He’ll be there in the morning, and we’ll call you if anything changes.”
> 
> But as soon as she’d started walking in at exactly 8am every morning, they stopped trying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christ- I am SO SORRY it's been so long since an update. I went through a little writers block.
> 
> But here I am! I got it written. It was bloody hard, but I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> I'm planning on writing a chapter 6, hopefully. Lord knows how long that'll take though!
> 
> As ever; any grammar, spelling, mis-characterisation, do let me know, as this is self-betad. And enjoy :)

She visited him every day for the next week. At first, the doctors would send her home at the end of visiting hours, saying:  
  
“He’ll be there in the morning, and we’ll call you if anything changes.”  
  
But as soon as she’d started walking in at exactly 8am every morning, they stopped trying.   
  
The BBC decided to give The Hour break until they found out news on their co-presenter. Well, that’s what they said. No one believed them. Westminster was still on their toes.  
  
Bel started bringing bits and bobs to the hospital: the odd newspaper clipping; a random piece of news she’d heard on the radio and noted down on a bit of paper; very occasionally something that arrived in the office (although Lix usually brought those in). She’d tell Freddie things, hoping a new story would perhaps, somehow, spur him to wake up. Plus she thought he’d want to know. It’s the first thing he’d want to know when he awoke.  
  
 _If_ he awoke.  
  
She shook her head when the thought came, dispelling it.  
  
 _No,_ she told herself. _He’s going to wake up. He’s going to be fine. He’s always fine- He’s Freddie._  
  
And yet, it had been three weeks. Three weeks since he’d turned up beaten like he was, turned up at Lime Grove with so little life left; three weeks since that kiss that turned her world completely upside down. Three weeks, and yet he hadn’t woken up. At least he was still breathing, she thought.   
  
Everyone from the office stopped by at least once. Bel believed Hector would come more to check on her, than Freddie, although he was evidently worried about him. She thought it sweet. Isaac appeared once or twice. She told him she caught a repeat of his play on the radio, and congratulated him on it. For it was, very good. Isaac blushed and left shortly afterwards. Freddie would have laughed at the exchange.   
  
_Why did you have to tell me something so sad?_  
  
Randall arrived once, and immediately began organising the room. But then, in the way that Mr. Brown does, he managed to pick her spirits up.  
  
“Mr. Lyon is a strong man,” he’d said. “Perhaps not in the conventional sense, but I’m confident he’ll pull through.” She smiled and nodded, and then he left, mumbling something under his breath that she couldn’t quite catch. She let it go.  
  
There was little press. This surprised Bel, actually; one of the presenters of a popular news show found beaten bloody and left on the doorstep of some BBC studios; news gold, surely. Answers came, however, when McCain arrived in the second week.  
  
“I’ve managed to keep the newspapers away from you, Miss Rowley,” he said, in that usual, odd, voice that makes her skin crawl. Although oddly this time it did not. “Don’t want them sniffing around you constantly in such a difficult time!” He continued, and she found herself genuinely grateful. She thanked him, politely, and he left soon after, promising to keep them away as best he could. She did, however, inquire about Miss Delaine before he escaped.  
  
“Yes, she is well! Thank you,” he answered, oddly enthusiastically. “I have managed to acquire her a new, stable job, where she will be safe and given a fresh start.”  Bel stated she was glad to hear it.  
  
“And if you get the chance,” she called after him as he left. “Do tell her thank you. For coming on the show.” He said he would, happily, and left pulling on his hat.  
  
Three and a half weeks _exactly_ after the- she dare not say incident, for even it sounds so painful - an unexpected visitor arrived.  
  
Bel was sitting in the chair she had claimed by his bedside. Newspaper clippings and photos cluttered the tables and floor around her, but at that point in time she was reading him the main articles of the day from the paper. The scuffle of shoes stopped her mid-sentence, and she turned to see-  
  
“Camille.”  
  
Bel rose from her chair, unable to wipe the look of shock off her face.  
  
“I um...” Camille started, taking a step back. “I wasn’t going to come. Wasn’t sure if I was wanted.”   
  
“No, no- come in, of course.” She moved the chair a little to make room. “I - um... I’m sorry for the mess.” How the hell was she meant to talk to her? Christ, that’s Freddie’s _wife,_ for God’s sake-  
  
“‘e was never like ‘dis when we were in France.” The sentence took her a little by surprise. Camille caught her look of confusion, smiled a little and shook her head. “Not like ‘dis, I mean- ‘e wasn’t quite as bold. The Freddie I knew would never ‘ave done what ‘e did.” Bel wasn’t entirely sure how to reply. _Had her accent gotten thicker?_ She shook her head back into the situation, um-ing and ah-ing, trying to get out something to say, when Camille smirked, shook her head, and said, quietly;  
  
“‘e never really loved me. What we ‘ad was... An illusion. The moment ‘e walked back into that office was the moment ‘e realised it. The moment ‘e saw you.”   
  
“Camille-”  
  
She held up her hands, stopping Bel short. She walked around the bed to her, and handed Bel a large envelope.   
  
“I ‘ope ‘e wakes up. I think I’d rather be a divorced woman than a widowed one.”   
  
Camille walked slowly to the door, turning to the motionless Freddie on the bed. She looked like she was going to say something, her mouth opening and closing a little like a fish, but she just turned away and left. No goodbyes.   
  
Bel sat down in the chair she’d spent the past three weeks in. She felt like a fool, standing there, staring at her as Camille just spoke at her. The chair felt uncomfortable, hard, unwelcoming almost. The last thing Camille said to her rattled around her head;  
  
 _I ‘ope ‘e wakes up. I think I’d rather be a divorced woman than a widowed one._  
  
From the moment that they met Bel knew how wrong for each other they were. She knew him better than anyone. What did he see in her? Perhaps she was exciting; she excited him, maybe. She was pretty, admittedly, but Freddie was never one to pick out girls for their looks. Passionate. She was passionate; that Bel could tell for sure. Freddie admired passion - or, at least, he admired it in her, Bel - but their passions appeared to have driven them apart. Camille couldn’t take Freddie’s need to find a story and find the truth. Freddie was a truth teller. A story teller. (Also, she didn’t like Casino Royale; how could he stay married to someone who didn’t like Bond?)  
  
She put the envelope into her lap, and put her head in her hands, sighing deeply. She was so tired. But how could she sleep when Freddie could wake up at anytime? Pulling her head out of her hands, she looked over to him, still so still. She stood up, and moved closer to his bed, holding his hand again; the feel of his skin against hers comforted her. She moved the hair off his face, watching him.   
  
_But it’s my right hand man that I- that I miss._  
  
Eventually, she turned to the envelope. Moving it from hand to hand for a while, she finally opened it.   
  
“Divorce papers...” she whispered to herself. _Was I expecting anything else?_ However, in between the papers, a small letter, addressed to Freddie, fell out. She turned it over and over in her hands. She knew what it was, or what it could be. This was her - Camille’s - goodbye. She considered reading it, but decided against it. This was Freddie’s business, not her own.   
  
Stuffing all the papers, and the letter, back into the envelope, she considered going to get a coffee, some food, or just going for a walk - the air around her had thickened since Camille’s arrival, and her strong perfume still poisoned the air - but looking up at Freddie again she found herself unable to leave; just like all those nights where she could have gone home to sleep. She was so bloody _tired._   
  
Emotions everywhere, she began to cry again. She thought herself ridiculous - the amount of times she’d sat down and cried over this _shitty_ situation was unbelievable to her - but she loved him. The kind of love where they’re your best friend; the way they make you feel makes you happier than whenever you’re alone; where you don’t even have to talk, the little glances say everything. It felt like those points where you find yourself laughing so hard you cry (he was the only person who could actually make her do that) and any moment away from them is a moment wasted. Freddie was the better part of her. With him, she finally felt whole.  
  
“Mon-”  
  
The voice made her neck snap up. Following came silence. But then- it came again.  
  
“Money...”  
  
“Christ- Freddie?” She stood up and leaned over him, pushing all his hair out of his face, trying to get a better look at him. “Freddie, can you hear me?”   
  
A slight twitch at the edge of the mouth. Eyelid trying so hard to open.  
  
“Moneypenny...”  
  
She couldn’t breathe. Excitement and fear and joy and shock- She was out in the corridor, screaming for a doctor or nurse.  
  
“Moneypenny...”  
  
She was by his side again, holding his hand and whispering into his ear;  
  
“I’m here, I’m right here. Oh, God. Are you here with me too?”  
  
“‘m here, Moneypenny,” he whispered, words broken and slurred. “‘m ‘ere.”


	6. Confessions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie spent the next few hours slipping in and out of consciousness. In his dreams he saw a door and he ran from the demons that hid inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting this out as quickly as I can. 
> 
> Too much fun to write. Hopefully better than the last chapter (it wasn't my favourite)
> 
> I don't know if I'll end up writing a chapter seven! It might just be a short one concluding everything. Maybe. I don't know.
> 
> ANYWAY: self-betad. Tell me about any grammar/spelling/character mistakes and I really hope you like this one <3

Freddie spent the next few hours slipping in and out of consciousness. In his dreams he saw a door and he ran from the demons that hid inside.   
  
She didn’t move at all for those hours. She just held his hand and calmed him down when he woke up; he’d always wake up screaming. Bel wasn’t entirely sure he knew he was doing it; one of those half-asleep states where you talk and respond to people but you’re not really awake. His bruises yellowed, and his cuts now white scars, he looked... better. In a way.   
  
He finally woke up, properly this time, in the early hours on a Thursday morning. Bel was sitting on her chair, lain across his bed, fast asleep. He didn’t want to wake her.   
  
Finally escaping the demons that chased him in his head, he looked around the dark hospital room. The lights flickered and the walls were a dull white. Not the nicest hospital room, but who was he to complain?   
  
His body ached. He attempted to sit up a little, but was met with unimaginable pain; muscles all screaming at him to stop. He let out an accidental yell in pain. He bit his tongue to stop himself before he woke Bel up (why would he want to wake such a sleeping beauty?). Fortunately, she simply moaned quietly and snuggled her head further into the bed. He let out a small sigh of relief, and relaxed down again, muscles ceasing their screams.  
  
He couldn’t sleep any more. He wouldn’t tell Bel, for she’d just worry, but every time he closed his eyes he saw things that terrified him. (She knew. She already knew.) The demons in his head were at bay while awake. So he lay still in that hospital bed and watched her as she slept. He saw the sunlight creep through the windows and across the floor. He watched dust fall in that light and mused that nothing was really more perfect than her.   
  
He could vaguely recall calling for her, asking for his Moneypenny. He could remember, just, the tears falling down her face. If he had died, he wouldn’t have wanted her to have cried over him.   
  
But he didn’t die. He was there, alive, breathing, with the woman he’s loved ever since they met all those years ago sleeping by her side.   
  
If it wasn’t for her there, willing him on, willing him to _live_.  
  
 _You’re stubborn in every other thing you do, Freddie; why don’t you apply that to something that could save your Goddamn life for once?_  
  
Slowly, she woke up. He considered pretending to still be asleep when she looked up at him, but decided on another route.  
  
“You know Moneypenny,” the word tasted oddly bitter in his mouth. He remembered calling for “Moneypenny” on that lawn. No, she was still Moneypenny, and he guessed this near-death experience made him even more like James than he thought. “You have the ability to look as beautiful, possibly even more so, when you’re asleep.” He found himself trying to grin at the look on her face. He wasn’t expecting to want to smile so soon. She did that. She always did that.  
  
Bel sat up and stretched. She smiled, just a little, at the attempt at a grin on his face, and said;  
  
“Good morning James. Did you sleep well?”  
  
“Like a rock, Moneypenny. I’ve never felt so awake in my life.”  
  
The smile on her face faded first, his soon after. His playful tone was completely gone from his voice when he said, after a beat;  
  
“How long since-”  
  
“Almost four weeks.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Why did you do it?”  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“Don’t do that. Don’t- DO THAT.” Bel was screaming, unintentionally. She didn’t realise how frustrated she was at him. “Why did you fling yourself at danger like that? Why did you charge at that loaded gun?”  
  
“Do you think I asked for that?” he yelled back, his throat killing him. “Do you think I did it to be a hero? Do you think I wasn’t terrified? I was. I was _so_ scared.”  
  
“Why did you do it then!?”

“Is she alive?” The question caught her off guard. A small beat.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Miss. Delaine. Is she alive?”  
  
“Yes-”  
  
“And the program got out? Clienti’s been arrested? The public know the truth?”  
  
“Yes...” she replied again, impatiently.  
  
“Well then. It was worth everything.” Bel was lost for words.  
  
 _Arrogant, childish, stupid, reckless boy._  
  
“Worth everyth- You nearly _died_ , Freddie!” She’d leapt out of her chair that this point, gesturing at him lying there, yelling at him.  
  
“But I didn’t! Look at me, I’m still here!” She tutted and turned away from him. _Reckless, reckless boy._ “I’m still here, and I still love you.” She froze. Did he?  
  
 _I’m still here and I still love you._  
  
He did.  
  
 _Oh Freddie-_  
  
“Frederick Lyon.” She turned to face him again, his face that of a guilty puppy of some sort. Her knees went weak, she struggled to stay upright. “You are a complete and utter _arsehole_. You’re self absorbed, reckless, arrogant-” His eyes now filled with stupid tears that he wished he could erase. (The demons in his head circled at the brim of his consciousness-)  
  
“But damn it all to hell Freddie, because I _bloody_ well love you too.” His head snapped over to look at her, standing tall and proud with tears in her own eyes. “So don’t you _dare_ go and do that again. Don’t you dare pull that again because, Freddie, I can’t bear to lose you. I can’t bear to live without you.” She stood over his bed once more, stoking the hair off his face like she’d done so many times before.   
  
“You’re my right hand man, my better half; how could I do this without you? You’re ridiculous, but hilarious and that kiss-” She cut herself off with a hysterical laughter. He tried to cut in, but she stopped him.  
  
“No, you’ve done this already. You did this with those letters you sent me from America. I-” She cursed the tears that stung both their eyes. “I love you so much; I always have. And if you promise me never to go do that to me again, I promise you I’ll forever be your Moneypenny. We got a deal, Lyon?”   
  
He stared at her for a moment, taking her in. _She admitted it. She finally said it too._ He pulled her down to him and kissed her with as much passion as he could. This is what he’ll live for. The demons were put at bay and he ignored the screams from his aching body because he didn’t care anymore. Any pain was worth having her this close to him.   
  
They pulled away, and he grinned.   
  
“I’m going to love you everyday for the rest of my life, my dearest Bel Rowley. Journalist and producer extraordinaire.”  
  
“And I you, my reckless, ridiculous boy.”  
  
She curled up on his bed next to him, never wanting to be away from him again.  
  
 _You finally came home. Freddie Lyon._ She thought.  
  
 _And now I’m finally leaping too._


End file.
